A Factory, a Broken Thermostat, & an Igros Moshe
April, 2019
In 2001, a professor at the University of Bordeaux performed a study that is
considered either famous or infamous, depending on who is talking. He brought together 54 oenologists (a fancy word for
wine experts) for a wine-tasting.
The results of his experiment were later published in the prestigious journal Brain and Language.
First, he gave them expensive bottles of both red and white wines. As might be expected, these experts described the reds with words like “chicory,” “cedar,” “raspberry,” and “cherry.” And they described the white wines as “floral,” “lemony,” and “peachy.”
Soon after, he invited these experts back
for a similar tasting of red and white wines.
Once again, they described the whites with
flowery terms and the reds with words
denoting harsher tones and flavors.
But there was a catch. In the second tast-
ing, they were given the same white wine
twice! This professor simply added some
red food coloring to the second batch of the
same white wine.
This study shocked the insular world of
wine tasting. But it was just the beginning.
Many other experiments were conducted to
demonstrate how our senses often fool us.
Perhaps my favorite was the one conducted
by Cal-Tech.
Instead of the typical switching of the
wine bottles, the researchers went one step
further. After placing all of the $10 wine
in $100 wine bottles and vice versa, they
attached brain scanners to the subjects.
There was no fooling anybody. With this set-up, if they claimed that the wine in the
expensive bottle was better quality, it would
be clear whether they really meant it.
And…they did! The part of the brain that
responds to greater pleasure lit up when
they drank the cheap wine that they thought
was of higher quality. Their perception actu-
ally affected them biologically!
This does not mean that red wine is not
unique; indeed, Chazal say clearly that red
wine is superior to white (Bava Basra 97,
based on Mishlei 23:31), and this is codi-
fied as a halachah in 472:11. It means that
our perceptions can create distortions in
objective reality. This study may give new
dimension to the view of some poskim that
simply adding red wine to white puts it
in the category of red wine! (Needless to
say, this is not based on the premise in the
research studies.)
I am sharing this because of an incident
that happened to me several years ago. But
first, a little more background.
Chazal discuss various levels of wine.
The Gemara records that Shmuel was once
drinking wine in front of a non-Jew of great
repute (Avodah Zarah 30a). The gentile
explained to Shmuel that he was careful
not to touch the wine so as not to make
it yayin nesech. Shmuel responded that he
need not worry as this wine was cooked,
and as Rambam explains (Hilchos Maachalos
Assuros, ch. 11), no idolater would offer
such poor wine to his deity.
How does this relate to the wine-tasting
experiments?
There are many people I know, both
family members and friends, who consider
themselves wine connoisseurs. They often
bring me wine, exclaiming, “This wine is
non-mevushal and therefore truly delicious.”
However, they may be affected by their
own perceptions. This is because many
poskim are of the opinion that today’s pas-
teurization does not affect the taste or
quality of the wine.
Both Rav Elyashiv (Even Yisrael 5757
and Kovetz Teshuvos 1:75) and Rav Shlomo
Zalman Auerbach (Minchas Shlomo 25)
make just such a case. The Rosh, seem-
ingly disagreeing with the Rambam, states
that the reason cooked wine is not an issue
is because of its rarity. Since pasteurization
is no longer rare, it would not be enough
to render the wine acceptable. Rav Shlomo
Zalman posits that in order for the mevushal
leniency to apply, the wine would have to
taste substandard. This, he says, does not
happen with simple pasteurization.
However, Rav Moshe disagreed. He felt
that simple pasteurization is enough to
deem wine or grape juice mevushal.
As I was reviewing these halachos the
other week, a memory came to mind. About
ten years ago, a company I certified wanted
to make a grape product created from pure
grape juice. The customer to whom he was
selling demanded that the grape juice come
from a certain grape juice facility.
This facility was not under certification.
However, and amazingly, he arranged with
this major manufacture to allow me to come
in on a Monday to kasher the entire facility
just so he could take a small percentage of
the grape juice for his own product.
It was a fascinating learning experience
since the production of grape juice and
wine involves so many unique halachos.
The details of that kashering are beyond the
scope of this article, but I want to mention
one element. Keep in mind that this was in
an era before smartphones.
Although this was a state-of-the-art facil-
ity, there was one piece of equipment that
was ancient and crude—the temperature
gauge for the pasteurizer.
It only registered up to 169 degrees. This
meant that if the grape juice was cooked at a
higher temperature, I would never know; all
I could guarantee was that it reached 169. I
could not recall offhand what Rav Moshe’s
temperature criterion was for considering
the juice mevushal.
I was not expecting a broken thermostat,
and the grape juice was already flowing into
the tank. Time was not on my side, and a lot
of money was hanging in the balance.
I quickly called my predecessor, Rav
Yirmiyahu Milevsky. “Quick, can you look
up Rav Moshe’s teshuvah on pasteurization?
I need to know how high a temperature I
have to get this grape juice up to!”
He responded, understandably, by asking
for a few minutes to find the answer. I hung
up, but I was still impatient and called my
shver, a kashrus veteran, pleading for the
same information.
He was in the middle of telling me that he
would look it up and call me back when Rav
Milevsky clicked in.
“I have to go,” I said. “I have another call
coming through.” Rude, I know.
“I found the teshuvah,” said Rav Milevsky.
“Rav Moshe says it has to reach at least 165
degrees.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. So long as we
got it to 169 (and perhaps it would go much
higher), I would know that at least it had
passed 165. The juice was saved!
As I was thanking him for his help, my
shver called in.
“I found the teshuvah,” he said. “It’s 175
degrees.”
“What did you just say—175?! Are you
sure?”
“Yes,” he responded and went on to read
me Rav Moshe’s words.
“What volume is this in?”
“The second volume of Yoreh Dei’ah #52.”
I quickly went back to Rav Milevsky, who
was on hold.
“Where is the teshuvah you gave me?” I
asked, hoping to determine which was the
later ruling.
Rav Milevsky said that the teshuvah was in
Yoreh Dei’ah, Volume 3, #31.
You might think this would prove that the
Volume 3 answer was the correct one, but as
I went back and forth between the calls, we
discovered that the later published teshuvah
allowing for 165 degrees was from 1965,
while the earlier published teshuvah, with a
ruling of 175 degrees, was from 1972!
And when I returned home that day, I
found a third teshuvah (Even Ha’ezer 4:108,
written in 1973) in which Rav Moshe
repeated his ruling of 175 degrees; and
indeed, this was what his student reported
as well.
As for the factory, we were able to locate
a brand-new temperature gauge just in time
and got the grape juice heated to a very high
temperature, thereby preventing the prob-
lem.
It just goes to show the complexity of pro-
ducing kosher wine and grape juice, how
complicated a visit to a factory can be, and
how extensively one needs to review the
halachos before arriving.
It wouldn’t be long before I began trav-
eling with a veritable otzar hasefarim in my
trunk!
Leave a Reply